


Art gallery date with Suga/he fingers you in public

by Insfiringyou



Series: Headcanon Masterlist [9]
Category: K-pop, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M, Public Foreplay, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, public fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:38:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insfiringyou/pseuds/Insfiringyou
Summary: An attempt to get out of the house and go on a "normal" date turns heatedThis is part of our headcanon universe. Although it is listed as reader, the girlfriend is imagined as Jeong-sun - our headcanon of Suga's girlfriend





	Art gallery date with Suga/he fingers you in public

You could tell from his expression that he wasn’t really enjoying himself. Yoongi’s eyes were unseeing as you looked at the hundredth portrait of the day. It was old-fashioned, and even you had to admit that all of the subjects were beginning to look the same. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain at your boyfriend’s lack of enthusiasm. He was dutifully at your side, pensive, his tongue poking out idly over his plump, pink lips. You knew that he’d rather be back at the apartment, and truthfully, so would you. Art had never really been your passion, but after 4 days without seeing the sunlight, you were beginning to go stir crazy. You seemed to lose all perspective of time and place when you were with him, and whilst he was comfortable with its unusual rhythms, you were not. Your body was perpetually set at the 9-5 pace. Being around other people was healthy, you’d encouraged him, but after more than half an hour without seeing a single person, you had to admit that your point was lost.

“So what do you think of this one?”

Yoongi’s eyes met yours steadily. He was impossibly beautiful in comparison to the aged painting, his own skin pale and flawless, a direct contrast to the deep crevices in the oil paint. His lips were pursed in a slight pout.

“I’ve seen this one before…“ He murmured, his eyes lingering on your exposed neck for a moment as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Of course you have,” you sighed, breaking eye contact and turning your attention back to the masterpiece.“It was the one used to advertise the exhibit.”

Yoongi gave a small, non-comittal shrug. "I’ve seen better.” You drew in your bottom lip to hide your sneer. You knew he was being cocky on purpose, and you felt his eyes on you, daring you to disagree.

Wordlessly, you moved away from the insufferable silence of the portraiture hall. The gallery was not unlike a Roman palace with its high ceilings and long, white stone passages. Apart from the security guards sat like statues on their folding chairs, it was suspiciously deserted, and you thought that you could count the number of visitors you had seen on one hand. You were drawn to the only source of noise, a low hum that echoed from a distant room . Following it, you discovered a small exhibit, its walls decorated with photographs. Right at the back stood a cubicle, a black curtain drawn across the only entrance. Curiosity overtook you, and you pulled it back and sank into the darkness. It was pitch black, save for the movie screen, which cast flickering shadows across the theatre. Yoongi ignored the row of benches, choosing to stand close by your side. You leant back, the surface of the wall scratchy against your elbows. Inexplicably, you were reminded of the ridiculous situation that had sparked your relationship with this man, and you smirked. This was admittedly a little more spacious than the closet you had been forced to share, yet there was the same uncomfortable tension in the atmosphere. Perhaps it was just the film, a nonsensical jumble of abstract architecture and sickening camera angles. The low, deep notes of the accompanying music resonated in your stomach, making you feel slightly nauseous.

“Are you enjoying this?” purred Yoongi, his slow tone rumbling through you. You realised how close you were to him when you felt his breath against your ear. Unexpectedly, your clitoris throbbed hard, your stomach turning as it did so.

“Am I supposed to be enjoying it?”

Yoongi’s smile was minx like as his eyes settled on yours, their surface glassy as they reflected the bright light of the screen. Your body stiffened in response as his hand brushed ever so softly against your lower back. A cool breeze made your skin tingle, and you realised that he had lifted the edge of your shirt up in the process. Lightly, his fingers skimmed the bare skin just above the belt of your jeans, following the indent of your spine.

“We’re in public, Yoongi.” You warn, your voice breathy as you fight the familiar shiver shooting up your vertebrae.

“I don’t see anyone.”

You said nothing though your heart thumped loudly in protest. His fingers trailed over your hips, running smoothly under your shirt. The chill of his Rolex made you flinch as it brushed over your stomach. You knew you should tell him to stop; but as you felt his fingertips glide under your waistband, your clit throbbed again as another loud, rumbling note echoed throughout your body. You simply couldn’t find the words, and you glanced sideways at your boyfriend, his tongue once again poking out from the side of his mouth. Shadow changed his features, hollowing his cheeks and sharpening his jawline. Yoongi smirked, testing you, waiting for the signal to stop. When you didn’t give one, you felt his fingertips search expertly though your small bush of pubic hair and directly to your centre.

The tight barrier of your jeans pressed his hand closer into you. He applied pressure against your clitoris, which swelled as your blood rushed quickly south.

“Your cunt is so warm.” He breathed into your ear, slipping his index further between your folds.

“And your mouth is filthy.” You hiss through your teeth. You could feel two digits pressing against your entrance, teasingly, and you could already tell that you were soaking. Yoongi massaged the area before sinking his fingertips into your waiting cunt. Lubricated, he trailed them back up to your clitoris, circling it easily. The added slickness made you incredibly sensitive, and the pull in your stomach deepened. He trapped your swollen nub between his fingers, feeling it pulse hard.

“Yoongi…” You seethed. This was not quite what you had in mind, but you could feel your body betraying you as you arched against him. Your panties were clinging to you, and from his devious expression, you knew that he’d noticed too.

“Do you want me to finish?” Yoongi moaned, his deep voice cutting straight through to your aching core.

But you had no time to answer him. Without warning, a strip of light flooded the dark theatre and your body froze as two visitors shuffled in and looked curiously around the little cubicle. Yoongi’s hand paused, trapped between the denim, his fingertips pressed against your pounding clit. In a subtle movement, he pulled you closer to his side and rested his head innocently against your shoulder. You thanked Jesus that you were wearing an oversized shirt today. It draped loosely over your body, disguising the lewd act you’d been caught in. One of the women glanced over at you both as she adjusted herself on the bench in front of you, her expression unreadable in the pitch black. Breath shallow and heart racing, you were insanely grateful for the darkness which masked your blushed cheeks. Yoongi’s hand was curved against your pubic area, a close fit to your body, and you were unsure whether he was ever going to let you go. But as the film reached its climax, and you did not, you felt his fingertips push purposefully against your clit before retreating back under your waistband and to your hips. You exhaled in relief, forcefully capturing his bony fingers between your own and squeezing his hand hard. Sweetly, he pressed his lips against your collar and you made your quick exit, leaving the film to loop as the credits disappeared.

“They didn’t notice.” He reassured as you rejoined the overly bright exhibition hall. You couldn’t tell whether your vision was spotty because of the harsh contrast of the museum lights, or whether it was because of what Yoongi had just been doing to you.

“Are you mad?”

“You’re a little shit, Min Yoongi, you know that?” You rasp, feeling the heat subside from your cheeks. “…But I love you.”


End file.
